Owls and Raindrops
by AlElizabeth
Summary: Set between Harry's first and second years at Hogwarts. An owl gets past Dobby to deliver a letter to the Boy Who Lived on a miserable, rainy day.


Harry Potter peered sadly out the window above the kitchen sink at the rain streaming down the glass. He hated when it rained. Whenever the weather was miserable he was usually stuck inside with the Durselys, unable to escape as he normally would by ducking outside and wandering the neighbourhood for a few hours.

He supposed it wasn't all bad though. He could sneak upstairs once he had washed the dishes and work on his homework. He knew he would have to be very careful, if his aunt and uncle caught him with his school things he'd end up locked in the cupboard under the stairs along with the rest of his Hogwarts things for the rest of the summer.

"Are you almost done in there?!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice called from the parlour and Harry hunched his shoulders.

"Yes!" the boy answered, vigorously scrubbing the mug in his hand.

Lifting his gaze to the window over the sink once again, Harry let his eyes go out of focus as he peered into the back garden. The boy jumped back, startled when something large and wet slammed into the glass.

"What was that?" Uncle Vernon snapped over the chatter on the television, "You better not have broken any dishes, boy, or-"

"It's nothing!" Harry called, pulling his hands from the soapy water. If he had to guess, he thought a bird had crashed into the window. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened and it wouldn't be the last. But, whatever had hit the glass this time was much larger than the usual robin or starling.

Hastily drying his hands in the dishtowel, Harry silently opened the kitchen door, hesitating on the threshold. Squinting into the rain, the boy jumped as a sharp crack sounded from the yard and then everything grew quiet. Concerned that the bird was badly injured, Harry slipped out into the rain. It was a mild day but the rain was chilly and quickly soaked through the boy's clothes.

Squelching across the sodden lawn, Harry dropped onto his hands and knees in front of the hedge in front of the kitchen window. Holding his breath, the young wizard pawed through the branches and leaves, searching for the bird.

"C'mon, where are you?" he muttered under his breath, raindrops obscuring his vision.

After a moment of receiving nothing for his troubles but some deep scratches on his arms, Harry sat back on his heels, ready to give up.

Raising a hand, he raked his wet fringe back from his forehead and turned his gaze to the open kitchen door. He'd better get back inside before his aunt and uncle found him in the garden and-

A weak hooting sound came from within the hedge and Harry leaned forward, pushing his hands into the foliage once again, sure he hadn't just imagined the entire episode.

After a moment or two of searching, Harry found what he was looking for. There, huddled against the side of the house, was a barn out, soaked through and shivering with cold.

"Come here," Harry reached into the hedge and gently picked up the owl. It didn't fight him but blinked its black eyes slowly, opened its beak slightly and let out another hoot.

"Where did you come from?" the boy asked, cradling the owl to his chest.

Glancing down, Harry saw the tattered remains of a letter clutched in the owl's talons, the parchment torn and dripping water, the ink running and nearly unintelligible.

"Did you come from Hogwarts?" Harry asked. The owl hooted and closed its eyes, going limp in his arms.

Knowing he couldn't just leave the poor animal in the garden, Harry stood and stepped back into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he peered down the hallway and into the parlour where all three of the Dursleys were sitting on the couch, watched television. Taking his chances, Harry sneaked down the hallway, his footsteps muffled by the carpet, and upstairs to where he now slept in the room his cousin Dudley used to keep his old toys in.

Harry ducked into his bedroom and closed the door with a snap. He crossed to his bed and laid the barn owl on his bed. He quickly untied the soggy letter from the owl's leg and brought it over to the radiator, laying it on top to dry out.

Hedwig, who had been asleep in her cage on the desk, woke up at the sound of Harry's footsteps and hooted angrily, flapping her wings as much as she could in her cramped cage.

"Quiet!" Harry hissed at her, not even looking in Hedwig's direction.

Grabbing a threadbare towel from the hook on the back of his door, Harry bundled the barn owl into it, trying to warm the bird up.

The owl's eyes flickered open and it hooted softly.

Harry smiled. He ducked underneath his bed and pulled up the loose floorboard and took the box of owl pellets he used to feed Hedwig and scattered three or four beside the barn owl.

"You eat those if you can," Harry told the bird, "I have to go back downstairs but I'll be up as soon as I can."

Making sure the barn owl, still wrapped in its towel, was far back from the edge of the bed, Harry exited his bedroom, careful to close the door in case any of the Dursleys came upstairs and swathe bird.

Padding down the stairs, Harry's heart skipped a beat when he saw his Aunt Petunia standing at the bottom, arms crossed over her chest and her lips a thin line on her narrow face.

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"I had to use the bathroom," Harry told her innocently.

"What were you doing outside?" she asked and Harry's heart dropped.

"I was… uh," he hesitated, struggling to come up with a convincing lie, "I had to chase one of Ms Figg's cats out of the garden. You know how they like to go into the hedge and use it as a litter box."

Aunt Petunia raised an eyebrow but seemed to accept this.

"Clean the floors when you're finished the dishes," she told him and turned back to the parlour.

Harry leaned against the banister for a moment; nearly unable to believe he'd gotten away with it. Heading down the hallway however, he groaned; he'd tracked mud and water all the way through the kitchen and onto the carpet.

 _HP_

Forty-five minutes later, Harry once again stepped into his bedroom and closed the door and leaned against it.

His gaze went directly to his bed where the barn owl sat. It had wriggled out from the towel and sat tight against the sheets on the bed, eyes closed. Stepping forward, Harry saw that the pellets were gone.

"Feeling better?" the boy asked and the owl turned its black eyes to him and hooted.

"Who sent you?" Harry asked the owl as he walked over to the radiator and picked up the letter. The parchment was still damp in places, curling at the edges. Carefully, the boy unfolded the letter and smiled as he caught sight of his friend Hagrid's untidy scrawl, smudged by the rain. Heart pounding in his chest, Harry brought the paper to his bed and sat down, reading quickly:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I really hope you're all right an' that those muggles_

 _treating you right. I got letters from Ron an' Herm_

 _saying they haven't heard from you either. They_

 _about you too. If you can, write back to let us all know_

 _Hagrid_

Harry carefully folded Hagrid's letter. It was torn in places, some of the words missing, but he got the gist of it. He was worried Harry was being mistreated, and while it wasn't great, he'd had worse in the past. He felt heartened however that his friends were so concerned for his wellbeing. He'd never had anyone care about him before. Pushing a finger under his glasses, Harry wiped water from his eyes. Glancing down at the barn out sitting on the bed, Harry decided he would try contacting his friends. If he couldn't send his own to get letters from his friends, maybe he could send the school owl to let them know he was okay at least. Digging underneath his bed for parchment and ink, he brought the supplies to the desk and started writing.

"I know you're a school owl but could you take these to my friends? I haven't heard anything from Hermione or Ron all summer and I…" he hesitated, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. He had received no news from either of his friends, even though Ron had told him that he was going to ask his parents if Harry could stay over at their house for part of the summer. Harry was afraid that Ron and Hermione didn't want to be his friends anymore.

"…And I miss them."

Harry finished his notes, folded both papers and brought them to the barn owl. Glancing out the window, he saw it was still raining and hesitated. If he gave the letters to the owl as they were, they'd be ruined. Thinking quickly, he knelt down and fished in the space beneath the loose board and grabbed the wrapper from a pumpkin pasty he'd been saving. Carefully, Harry folded the orange cellophane around his letters before tying them to the barn owl's leg to keep them safe from the rainwater.

Smiling, proud of his ingenuity, Harry let the owl climb onto his arm and brought it to the desk. With his free hand, he opened the window. A damp, balmy breeze and chilly drops of water hit Harry in the face. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and blinked her large yellow eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, "I can't let you out Hedwig. Maybe if I hear from Ron."

Lifting his arm, the boy pointed the limb out the open window. The barn out tightened its grip on his arm slightly, spreading its wings.

It glanced back at him for a moment with its black eyes, hooted once more, and then took off. Flying low over the houses of Privet Drive.

Harry remained as he was for a long moment, listening to the water dripping from the eaves, feeling the wind against his face, and smiled, tentatively, hoping against hope that his letters would find his friends and that he'd once again be reminded that the past year had not been some wonderful, magical dream.

 _HP_

A pair of large, bright green eyes followed the path of the barn owl as it left the Dursley's house at Number Four, Private Drive and winged low over the suburb. Before the bird could fly further however, it landed on top of a mailbox at a house on nearby Clovis Crescent. The barn owl paused, head swiveling around, before it suddenly froze as though made of stone and toppled from the mailbox. The bird landed on the lawn with a dull thud and lay there, unable to move.

"Dobby is sorry," a house elf whimpered as it approached the owl, "But Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts. It is too dangerous."

The elf reached out and untied the letters from the owl's leg and stuffed them into the pillowcase it wore like a filthy loincloth.

The elf waved a hand and the owl jumped up, snapping its beak indignantly at the creature before opening its wings and taking off.

Dobby watched the bird fly over the houses, relieved of its burden.

Patting the stack of letters beneath his loincloth, Dobby nodded once.

"Harry Potter is much safer here."

 **Author's Note:**

 **It's a dull, rainy day today and I wanted to write a one-shot. This is what I came up with. Hope you all enjoy it.**

 **Please take a moment and leave a review.**


End file.
